


Secret Santa

by Mookie



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Christmas Gift Fic, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28153743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mookie/pseuds/Mookie
Summary: Secret Santa trope in which Trowa draws Quatre's name and wrestles with the dilemma "what did one get for the man who had everything, or at least one who had the means to get everything?" (Hint: not a hippopotamus)
Relationships: Duo Maxwell/Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton/Quatre Raberba Winner
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lil_1337](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/gifts).



> Super original title, I know. Written as a 2012 Christmas gift based on the prompt "Santa (Quatre) Baby."

"Why so glum, chum?"  
  
Trowa glanced up at the two agents standing in the doorway, or specifically at the longer haired of the two of them. Naturally that hadn't come from Heero, who was leaning against the doorframe looking tolerantly amused by his partner's lack of subtlety.  
  
Trowa's partner, that was, not Heero's. Heero and Duo were expressly forbidden to work together as partners thanks to Une's iron clad rule about couples working together. That the two ex-pilots were a "couple" was still something Trowa had a hard time wrapping his head around, as was the fact that Une had split them up by assigning Heero to work with Quatre and Duo to work with him.  
  
He would have shot a dirty look in Duo's direction, but it wasn't worth the effort. It would have been completely wasted on someone who had endured Heero's infamous glares all through the war.  
  
Something that Duo had told Trowa he'd always found kind of sexy, as if Trowa wanted to know.  
  
He rested his chin back on his hand and continued to scribble on the piece of paper on his desk, ignoring the two of them and hoping Duo was planning on going home already. The whole Secret Santa thing had been Duo's fault to begin with.  
  
Only half of his wish came true when Heero walked into the office and sat down at Duo's desk. It wasn't until Duo was gone, as evidenced by the fading of the whistled "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" that Trowa had been putting up with all week.  
  
Trowa could have easily ignored Heero, but he doubted he could outlast Heero's infinite patience, so he set the pen down and turned his chair around.  
  
"He put you up to this."  
  
Heero leaned back in the chair and put his feet on Duo's desk. Trowa was distracted by how pristine Heero's boots were.  
  
Ah, that was right. Heero's Secret Santa had left the boots on his chair earlier in the day. Based on the practicality of the gift, Trowa's bet was they were from Wufei. By now he was pretty sure he'd figured out who nearly everyone had received their gifts from, except for Quatre, whose name Trowa had drawn out of the paper bag.  
  
The problem was, what did one get for the man who had everything, or at least one who had the means to get everything?  
  
"Duo's not the boss of me," Heero said simply, leaning forward and putting his feet back on the floor. "But if you want me to run after him and bring him back instead..." he trailed off, allowing the threat to sink in.  
  
Trowa slumped in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew he was acting like a petulant child, and he wondered how Heero would react if he threw himself on the floor and had a kicking and screaming tantrum. The mental image brought a smile to his lips.  
  
"Which of one of us are you mentally dismembering?"  
  
Trowa shook his head. "Neither of you right now, but earlier in the day it was Duo."  
  
"The hippopotamus song," Heero said, nodding sagely. "I'm just glad he's whistling it now instead of singing it."  
  
"I wish that's all Quatre wanted for Christmas," Trowa muttered. He opened his desk drawer, pulled out the small slip of paper with Quatre's name on it, and waved it in the air. "I have no idea what to get him."  
  
Heero blinked at him.  
  
"What?" Trowa said, testily. "Obviously Quatre has my name, so it's going to have to be good."  
  
"And you know that Quatre's your Secret Santa because...?"  
  
"Because I've eliminated everyone else. Who else could it be?"  
  
The expression on Heero's face suggested that he was still mystified by the problem.  
  
"The guy could get me anything he wanted. How can I compete with that?"  
  
"I wasn't aware that this was a competition," Heero replied.  
  
That much was obvious, but then Heero hadn't had to worry about it because he'd drawn Sally's name. After a routine training exercise that he and Sally had conducted, it had become common office knowledge that Sally had long coveted Heero's gun, but no one would have had the balls to dare follow through. And since the gun she received from her Secret Santa was custom made and nearly identical to Heero's, the conclusion was obvious.  
  
Just like Wufei's desk lamp was clearly a gift from Duo. Shaped like a Santa hat and with a built in electronic device that played Christmas carols, including the ubiquitous hippopotamus song, it couldn't be from anyone else.  
  
Trowa would gladly trade the lamp for whatever Quatre was getting him. Unlike his partner, he could turn off the lamp, and at least he wouldn't feel cheap or thoughtless when his gift was opened.  
  
"It's not," Trowa admitted. "But Quatre is generous to a fault. You know that. And he's sharp. I know he heard about that conversation."  
  
"Ah," Heero said. "Duo told me about that one."  
  
Duo had been sitting where Heero was, two weeks ago, talking about what he'd put on his Christmas list if he was making one. Most of it had involved Too Much Information for Trowa's liking, especially the parts where he'd gone into as-yet-untried bedroom adventures, with graphic descriptions.  
  
When he'd asked Trowa what he'd put on _his_ list, Trowa had rattled off a list of material things, anything to purge the images Duo had conjured up in his mind. He'd gone from a car, a convertible, he was pretty sure he'd said, to adding increasingly exorbitant items like a yacht and the deed to a Gundanium manufacturing facility in deep space.  
  
"You know he's not going to get you all those things," Heero pointed out.  
  
"But he _could_."  
  
It was clear Heero didn't understand the problem, and Trowa was done trying to explain it. Instead he put his forehead down on his desk and closed his eyes.  
  
"There's an easy solution to your problem." Heero's voice was right next to him and Trowa jerked his head up. He'd forgotten how stealthy the man could be when he wanted.  
  
"I'm dying to hear it," Trowa replied sarcastically. "Should I trade with someone else? Have _you_ buy the gift for me?" Tempting as that was, especially since Heero and Quatre did all their field assignments together and Heero had to have some inkling what Quatre might like, he didn't want to pass this off to someone else. It would be like cheating.  
  
Heero was looking down his nose at him. "Don't be an idiot. I meant get something from the heart."  
  
Trowa opened his mouth to retort, but paused. Heero had a point. Quatre was the type to appreciate something heartfelt and genuine.  
  
"Maybe," he said grudgingly.  
  
Heero snorted. "Merry Christmas, Ebenezer," he said.  
  
"Bah humbug to you, too," Trowa said with a mock salute. Heero quirked his eyebrows, which was as good as grinning, and surprisingly, it put the whole Present Dilemma into perspective.  
  
He got up and grabbed his coat. Heero wasn't the only one who could act on his emotions.  
  


* * *

  
  
Quatre noticed the brightly wrapped package first thing in the morning, because it was sitting on his laptop. He picked it up and turned it over.  
  
"Helps to start by finding an edge that isn't covered with tape," his partner suggested.  
  
"It's light," Quatre replied, ignoring the implied insult. "Like it's empty."  
  
That got Heero to turn his chair so he was facing Quatre, who was slipping his finger underneath one of the neatly folded flaps. He unwrapped the package with care, setting the small square of paper on his desk as he lifted the top of the box.  
  
His mouth made a perfect "O" shape, and then Heero was staring at his back as he rushed out of the office.  
  
It was chilly outside, and Quatre had left his coat hanging in the office, but he pushed the doors open and went outside anyway, where he could have a few minutes alone. He leaned against the brick wall and closed his eyes, gulping deep breaths of cold air. His throat hurt, and his chest ached, and only after a few more breaths were they due more to the frigid air more than from the emotional impact of the gift.  
  
He'd been clutching the box, sans lid, to his chest, but he slowly lowered it and peered inside again, to reassure himself that his eyes hadn't played tricks on him.  
  
The foundation had been a secret, at least his connection to it. The founding of it had been done through a series of proxies, and all the donations had been routed through rigorously secure channels to conceal their benefactor. It had been his sole attempt, at the end of the war, a feeble attempt at best to right his one unforgivable wrong.  
  
The funds had initially been used to assist the few surviving families of the people who had resided on the colony he'd destroyed during the time he'd allowed the ZERO system to distort his judgement. It had grown into something much bigger than that. Quatre would never forgive himself for what he'd done, but knowing that the foundation had been able to facilitate much needed rebuilding and infrastructure to other colonies as well as the first eased the chronic pain in his heart somewhat.  
  
The small, discreet certificate lying in the box confirmed the anonymous donation. Quatre hadn't told anyone about his involvement. He'd not wanted to taint the foundation with his name and had not wanted anyone to think he was attempting to purchase forgiveness. He was half convinced that his Secret Santa was not just a secret, but the real mythical man himself.  
  
The cold was beginning to affect his nose, fingers, and toes, and he knew he'd have to go back in soon. He'd worked with Heero long enough to hope that he could go back in, sit back down at his desk, and go to work without explanation of his abrupt departure and delay in returning.  
  
He pushed away from the wall and went back in to the lobby.  
  
Trowa was there, holding out a steaming cup. Quatre didn't care what it was; he shoved the box into his pocket and wrapped both hands around it, inhaling deeply. It was chicken soup, and he took a cautious sip. It wasn't hot enough to scald his tongue, and after the next sip, he continued drinking it, allowing the noodles to slide down his throat, until only a few bits of carrot remained on the insides of the cup.  
  
"Thanks," he said, his voice raspy and hoarse from the cold. Trowa took the cup from him and tossed it into the waste can near the entrance. Now that he was inside, Quatre was shivering uncontrollably.  
  
"I should have brought your coat," Trowa said, sounding annoyed with himself. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the elevators. "I can just run and get it for you."  
  
The fact that Quatre could just have easily gone to get it himself in the same amount of time went unspoken. He closed the short distance between them and hugged Trowa as hard as he could.  
  
It took less than a second for Trowa's arms to wrap around him, and Quatre rested his cheek against the other man's shoulder. Trowa smelled of cinnamon, probably from the hot chocolate that was being served upstairs. It reminded Quatre of time spent with the Maganacs, back before he'd lost his mind.  
  
Trowa was the one who'd helped him get it back.  
  
It made perfect sense that Trowa was his Secret Santa. Quatre didn't know how Trowa had figured out his secret, but it didn't matter. The real gift was realizing that Trowa understood. Quatre supposed he'd always known.  
  
He lifted his head from Trowa's shoulder and kissed him.  
  
Trowa was kissing him back, and Quatre had completely forgotten where they were until the sound of slow clapping reminded them. They broke apart to see Duo and Heero standing there. Heero had Quatre's coat draped over one arm; Duo had a green and red plaid Thermos with an oversized bow on it tucked under his arm and he was grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"You left this upstairs," he said, holding it out to Trowa. "I didn't get it for you so you could let it sit around and collect dust."  
  
Quatre was aware of Trowa's arms leaving him, and although he was going back upstairs, he reached for his coat and put it on. He'd nearly missed Trowa's surprised exclamation.  
  
"You were my Secret Santa?"  
  
"Nice one, genius," Heero commented, earning a glare from Duo. "It's called _Secret_ Santa for a reason."  
  
"Only until everyone has received their gifts," Duo said indignantly. "Give me some credit here."  
  
Trowa didn't seem interested in their lover's quarrel. He was more fixated on the identity of his Secret Santa.  
  
"But you got Wufei that lamp."  
  
Duo turned to Heero. "Why do they always think it's me?"  
  
Heero began humming the hippopotamus song, and Duo snorted.  
  
"Circumstantial evidence."  
  
"I'm just telling you why nearly everyone thought it was you."  
  
Duo smiled at him. "And you knew better."  
  
Heero shrugged a shoulder. "You wouldn't be so obvious, and I saw the box under the desk in Sally's office when we were in there for a meeting last week."  
  
"Thanks, I think," Duo replied, not looking nearly as mollified as he had a moment ago.  
  
"Sally was Wufei's Santa," Trowa said slowly, trying to process everything. "But Heero, you were her Santa."  
  
"No, Wufei was Sally's," Heero said. "I just gave him the specifications he wanted."  
  
Trowa raked a hand through his hair. "If Wufei was Sally's Santa, who got you the boots?"  
  
Quatre cleared his throat. "That would be me. Heero's last pair soaked through during our last mission."  
  
Heero looked over at Duo, who scowled, reached into his pocket, and pulled out a couple of bills that he counted out into Heero's hand. When he got to the last bill, he paused.  
  
"You know Valentine's Day isn't that far away. Might want to save this to get me something to go with that back massager you got me this year, _Santa_."  
  
Heero leaned over and whispered something in Duo's ear, and Duo cleared his throat and turned toward the others.  
  
"We've got important Preventer business to take care of," he announced, thrusting the Thermos into Trowa's hands. "We'll see you guys later."  
  
As they walked away, Trowa murmured to Quatre, "They're not going back toward the conference rooms."  
  
"No, they're not," Quatre agreed. The other two were clearly headed in the direction of the locker room, and more importantly, the showers.  
  
Thanks to sharing an office with Duo, Trowa knew far more about the intricacies and logistics of shower sex than he'd thought imaginable.  
  
He glanced at Quatre, who had not been his Secret Santa after all. It was obvious he didn't know his friends and coworkers as well as he'd thought.  
  
He unscrewed the top of the Thermos and handed it to Quatre, who accepted it gratefully. A few sips later, a thin film of sugary foam coated Quatre's upper lip, and Trowa leaned forward to swipe it off with his tongue.  
  
It was fine with him that he hadn't figured out the identities of the Secret Santas. There was only one person he cared to know that well.  
  
He cleared his throat. "Hey, Quatre, isn't there an auxiliary locker room on the third floor?"  
  
"Yes, opposite from the training rooms. Why?"  
  
Trowa gripped Quatre's sleeve and slid his hand down Quatre's arm until he could lace their fingers together.  
  
"Just wanted to be sure. For future reference."  
  
Quatre gave his hand a squeeze, one that Trowa returned. They whistled "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas" the entire way back to the field offices.  
  
Naturally, everyone blamed Duo.


End file.
